Free Die for Me by Nichole Severn

she obviously needed him. She studied each and every one of the homeless, trying to figure out what had changed. Old men huddled beneath torn jackets, women and children slept near barrel fires they’d made and mangy dogs sulked around in hopes of not being eaten. All appeared normal.
    She huddled deeper into the jacket she’d found, effectively covering her face. The cement column at her back protected her from behind, but she found herself automatically searching for the knife she kept. It wasn’t there. The police had taken it. Torrhent strained to listen for a threat, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Staying in one place had been a bad idea.
    Scouring the ground, she found the piece of glass that had nicked her when she’d sat down. A new kind of scent, unlike the smoke from the fire or the putrid smell of the homeless, assaulted her nose. Cologne. Expensive. Nobody down here would have the money or need to fulfill such whimsical desires. Somebody down here didn’t belong.
    Slowly leveraging her weight against the column, Torrhent stood, leaving the jacket and moldy blankets behind. It was dark under the overpass, but she could use it to her advantage.
    She had no reason to believe they’d found her already, but she refused to take any chances. Sliding between a Dumpster and the chain-link fence, she waited. With her fellow residents fast asleep, only the pops and crackles of the barrel fires filled the silence. Her instincts were right. Less than two minutes after relocating, Torrhent saw him.
    Muscular with short, buzzed hair, he uncovered piles of rags as he moved closer to her position. Neither ruffling clothing nor careful footsteps reached her ears. Whoever intended to find her had skill. A professional.
    Keeping her gaze on the figure, she moved when he moved, backing herself around another column as he came upon her bed for the night. She watched as he riffled through the blanket. She took another step forward.
    Suddenly freezing in place, the man radiated hostility.
    Shit .
    He’d noticed her.
    Torrhent stretched up, pressing the sharp side of the glass against his throat as he straightened. He tensed under her touch and she had him right where she wanted him. “What do you want?”
    “I expected you’d be out of the city by now, Torrhent,” Harrington said, his hands rising in surrender.
    Torrhent nudged him face-first into the cement column with a free hand. “Hug the column.” He did. “How’d you find me?” she asked.
    “It’s not hard when you know what to look for. People start noticing suspicious behavior when you make it look like you’re trying to hide from someone. We’ll work on that.”
    “Spread your feet and don’t move.” She kept the glass close to his throat, biting back her scream as the edges cut through her calloused skin. As best as she could manage, she patted the length of his shirt and pants for weapons, then straightened. He was clean.
    Harrington turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I’ll have to teach you how to frisk someone properly, too.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    An elbow hit her face, knocking Torrhent on her back. When she opened her eyes, Harrington knelt over her. The campfire reflected its light through the piece of colored glass in his hand as he studied her. “Looks like you’ll need some training if we’re going to work together.”
    His voice sounded distant as blood trickled from her nose in a sloppy wet line to her mouth. She turned, spitting it out, but even the sight of her own blood made her sick. Her vision blurred, the weight of her nausea pulling her down. She fought to speak, her head spinning more out of control. “Work . . . together?”
    Massive fingers clenched into her flannel shirt, pulling her upright. It was too much to handle. Her knees buckled, the sight of blood on her hands disappearing as she fell into darkness.
     
    * * *
     
    “You kidnapped me!” Bottomless gray